“But an arrow that can kill a demigod roaming the world is fine?”
“Don’t try to impress too much logic on me, Creation. I’m a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kind of woman.”
Just the kind he liked, if Destruction was any measure. “Very well, just an arrow then.”
Creation lifted his hands off the table, envisioning what he would like to make. Warm, yellow light began to hover in the air, condensing into lines like a blueprint. This would be far more complex than making his clothing.
“One other important thing,” Hunt said quickly. Creation glanced at her. “Make it so no godly hand can touch it but yours and mine.”
“What?” His hands fell, and the light faded. But a new light dawned on him. “You do not want to risk it falling into Chaos’s hands.”
“Yes,” Hunt said grimly. “I know you will die before giving it to her, as will I.”
“You don’t trust the rest of the pantheon?” Creation felt like he should be surprised by the fact, but he wasn’t. In truth, some part of him felt suspicious. Perhaps it was the corner of him dedicated to Destruction and her wariness bleeding over into his own mind.
“Motives shift faster than the weather. Gods do as it suits them. I only trust myself and those I’m forced to.”
Creation nearly asked if she trusted him as well, but quickly backed away from the question. It didn’t matter. She didn’t need to trust him; they just needed to work together. They just needed to kill Chaos. At the least, he knew she trusted they both had an invested interest.
So Creation lifted his hands once more, allowing the light to condense—now with a new thought in his mind.Let no one touch this but Hunt and I. Yet Destruction crept in his head and, like always, he did not have the will to push her away.
